authenticity over perfectionism part 2
Do you remember my little blog post a couple of months ago about authenticity over perfectionism? I’m thinking that perhaps now I’m still a little too perfectionist-leaning to be qualified to write about this topic.
This is after my nail-besotted 13 year old tells me in a slightly panic-struck voice that the nail glue has somehow tipped itself over on our marble bathroom benchtop, without its lid on of course, and has stuck fast. And then in an effort to retrieve this situation, as she tried to get it off, the container broke in two because much of it was irreparably glued to the marble, and the rest of the liquid glue has now stuck fast to the basin.
So if that blog post sounded a little smug, now that I’ve done a whole lot of yelling, much pacing, some nail polish remover that resulted in some hot chemical reaction but didn’t actually remove anything except the skin from my fingers, and lots and lots of scraping, I find myself rereading my blog post. And trying hard to believe in my words. Especially the bit where I talk about quirks and speed bumps and chippy details making a space real. In truth, I absolutely know that this is so. I am just not ready for a (literal) speed bump on my beautiful marble bench top.
And here is where I also get to eat my words – last week, in an interview, I happily proclaimed that when my girls were little, other than ensuring that super precious items were out of harms way (when really I meant out of accidental breakage way, because accidents do happen) all my other treasures and collections were part and parcel of daily life for the whole family. Except that accidents do happen, especially when the lid is not put on the nail glue, and the result is not happy. As in, I’m not happy. I should just eat my words, and try not to choke on them. (More yelling ensues.)
So there isn’t much more to be said – except that sometimes perfectly imperfect living is more on the imperfect side of the equation. And I’m still learning the lesson. And in the morning, when I hesitantly take another look at the bathroom, and try hard not to yell any more, I will remind myself that it isn’t the end of the world, and that literal, authentic speed bump in the marble will be a daily reminder of a perfectly imperfect life that is perfect in an imperfect way most of the time.
And I’m banning fake nails and nail glue.
(styling and photography by Amanda Holland for perfectly imperfect living)